Boy Who Touched the Stars II
by vspar042
Summary: The end of the story..or is it just the beginning? The journey of another little boy named Peter to the magical world of Neverland. Actually written before BWTTS I, but was short so I decided to post it anyway
1. Chapter 1

Life on the streets of London was hard.

Peter Banning knew that full well. Orphaned at the age of seven, he had been eking out an existence for five years by selling papers and the occasional pickpocketing job when things were really bad. Peter didn't like to steal. His mother had taught him wrong from right before she died and whenever he did, it felt like he was disappointing her somehow. But survival was his focus now; living from day to day, shilling to shilling. Playtime seemed almost like a fairytale, an ever-present dream buried in his wildest fantasy.

One particularly cold day in the middle of November, Peter was walking his daily route. Almost numb from the frosty air, he huddled down in a doorway to try and warm himself up before continuing down the street. Through the oak door, he could feel the warmth from the fire inside. It was the warmest he had been in days. So great was his level of comfort that, before he knew it, he was sound asleep. Hours later, he was woken up by a large hand on his shoulder, gently shaking him awake.

"Here now lad, you can't just fall asleep in a person's doorway. You're blocking the entrance and making it very hard to get inside." Said a smiling, red-haired gentleman dressed in a fashionable gray three-piece suit.

"Oh, I'm verra' sorry sir! I dinna' mean to fall asleep! I just wanted t' get out o' the cold for a wee bit…. It was so cold today, you see. I dinna' mean no 'arm! I promise!" Peter stammered, shrinking into the corner of the doorway.

The young gentleman frowned. "I didn't mean to scare you lad; just trying to get inside my house. Now come on then, I'll help you up." He reached down, hauled Peter up, and brushed the snow off of his worn brown coat. "Now, run along home before you catch your death sleeping in a doorway in the snow."

Honest green eyes looked up at him. "It's no different from normal sir. Your doorway or someone else's….they is all shelters from a bit o' wind. Now, thank ye kindly for not bein' mad about me stoppin' here for a bit. I'd best move on now." Peter turned up his collar, folded his arms and headed out into the cold.

If he had looked back, he would have seen a very interesting sight. The tall gentleman seemed to be arguing in hushed tones with a floating ball of light. After many animated gestures, the light flounced away to a nearby lamppost where it seemed to camouflage in with the gaslight. Smiling triumphantly, the man called after Peter, "Boy! BOY! Why don't you come inside and warm up for a bit? You look like a nice warm fire would do you some good."

Eyes wide, Peter turned around and said wonderingly, "Me, sir?" He looked down at his ragged coat, mud-stained pants and scraps of shoes. "You want me to come…inside… that grand house?" Backing away slightly, he stammered, "Oh n-no sir! I couldna'! What if I were to get dirt on the carpets or knock over a fine vase? No- I'd best be on my way."

"Nonsense!" the man said, beckoning him closer. "I don't put much stock in fineries that are easily broken and hard to replace. And as for the carpets, well, one without any dust on it doesn't have that home-y feel, now does it? Now, come on- I'm quite chilled from standing out here and wish for the comfort of a warm fire myself." He opened the door and motioned the child inside.


	2. Chapter 2

Warily, Peter inched his way to the door. He could feel the heat of the fire inside. It was the warmest he had been in weeks. The odd man was still standing in the doorway, holding open the big oak door. Eyes wide, Peter crossed over the threshold and was instantly enveloped by heat and a deliciously spicy, fresh scent. The man shut the door, took off his hat and coat, and started to walk down the hall.

"Just follow me, my boy. We'll get you something hot to eat, a nice chair to sit on, and then have a little chat." The boy followed along, helpless to do anything else. He had never seen so many pretty things all at once, so it was slightly overwhelming.

The house was small and cozy; the perfect size for a bachelor. Four stories tall, it was a warm brick building with black shutters and an imposing great oak door. When one went inside, they were welcomed into a hallway with doors leading to rooms and stairs, covered by bright carpeting, which climbed forever to the upper regions of the house.

"The living room is just in there – that door to the left. Go on in and sit down, I'll make sure Cook brings us some food." The man said as he headed down the hall to the kitchens, where the typical cacophonous banging of pots and pans could be heard.

Peter hesitantly approached the door, turned the shiny brass doorknob and slowly inched it open. On the other side waited a place where the woodsy scent of the forest hung thick in the air, beautiful portraits hung on the walls in gilt frames, the couches were inviting and comfortable, and a random assortment of knickknacks littered the available table space. A roaring fire warmed the room and added to its charm.

So engrossed was the boy in looking at the various items on the tables that he didn't notice the small ball of light floating around the room. It headed near one of the gas lamps to blend in with the light the lamp was giving off. Tinkerbell watched him. He was curious, as most children are. The objects in the room clearly held his fascination, as he was continuously picking up an object only to gently set it back down again as another caught his attention. He reminded her of someone she used to know; a boy with an insatiable curiosity who was forever flitting from one escapade to another.

As he made his way around the room, Peter's attention was finally held by a large tapestry map on one of the walls. Lovingly worn, the map was old and frayed at the edges. Various places were marked with little pins that looked like red flags. He didn't know what the places were, only that there were a lot of them.

The man came bustling into the room then, shirtsleeves rolled up to his forearms, carrying a tea try filled with all sorts of delicious goodies. He set the tray down on a nearby table.

"Alrightly then, lad. We have hot tea, some scones, biscuits, jam, and I think there's a meat pie or two somewhere in that pile." He said, "It's all I could get off Mrs. Bundlesby without any warning. I hope it's enough."

Peter's eyes were almost as big as his head. "I've ne'er seen so much food, sir! Is it really alright fo' me to take it?"

"Of course, boy! I got it for you. Nearly had my brains bashed in by a rolling pin for it. Now, have a seat on the sofa and tuck in!" Motioning to the overstuffed couch in front of the fire, the man settled into a large, plush armchair next to it.

Peter gingerly sat down where he had been indicated, reached for a meat pie, and took a bite. His eyes closed in bliss as the warmth of the pie settled into a stomach that had been empty more days than it had been full. Once he started eating, he simply couldn't stop; the smells too delicious, the tastes so rich, that his little body was almost shaking with excitement. When all of the food was gone, Peter leaned into the warmth of the cushions and basked in the warmth of the fire.


	3. Chapter 3

"Have you had enough then?" The man asked. He had been sitting there the whole time, staring off into space and fiddling with a thimble he had taken off of a nearby table. His eyes were sad; his shoulders weary, as if the weight of a whole world was on his shoulders.

"Yes sir, I'm quite full. Thank ye' ever so much, but sir – Why are you being so nice t' me? You don't know me for nofin' and yet you've fed me and let me sit by your nice fire. Why?" Peter wondered.

The man smiled and looked up to the mantle where a little dagger was displayed. "I used to be like you, lad. Alone, trying to survive the best I could in a world that doesn't care whether I succeeded or failed. Then, one day, I found someone who took me to a place that changed my life forever."

"Wha' place was that, sir?" the boy asked eagerly.

"Oh – a place made up of little boy's dreams. Anything that you believe in, anything that you desire, it's all there." The man sighed wistfully.

Peter thought for a moment, his head bent towards the floor. After a few moments, he raised his head and asked solemnly, "Then why did ye leave?"

The man turned to him, surprised, "Why do you ask that, boy?"

"Well, I know that no such place exists here in London, and you're here right now. So, ye musta' left there and came here."

"Smart lad… yes, I did leave it behind to come here."

"But…why? London is an 'orrid place! It's always cold and rainy, there's never enough food, there's no grass… why would ye wish to come back?" Peter exclaimed.

The man chuckled humorlessly, rising from his chair to stoke the fire. "I suppose you will understand it better when you grow up."

"If growing up makes you want to leave a place like that for London, then I do no' think I ever want to grow up." Peter stated matter-of-factly. He watched as the man started looking for another log to put into the flames.

"Unfortunately, it seems to catch up with the best of us. Growing up is inevitable, lad. Death, the grim reaper that he is, waits for no man."

"I kno' that, sir." He said quietly. "Both me parents went so fast. One day they were there, and the next, they weren't."

"How did it happen?" the man asked quietly from a far corner of the room.

"Me father, he died in a factory. It was an equipment malfunction, so they said. Me mum, she went soon after. People said it was the sickness, but I think it was fro' a broken heart."

"Hmm, I'm sorry to hear that lad…. You see, I'm an orphan too, so I know what it's like to be alone."

"Thank ye, sir." Peter smiled gratefully.

"Well, now that we know each other's life story, what is your name, boy? I feel rather awkward not knowing your name if we are to be friends." The man said jovially as he pulled one of the bigger logs off of a pile in a far corner of the room.

"It's Peter sir, Peter Banning."

Suddenly, there was a crash of things falling to the floor. He turned towards the sound of the noise.

"Peter… did you say?" the man asked in an odd voice. He had dropped the log he was carrying and stood frozen, as if something had paralyzed him in space.

"Yes sir, Peter Banning…. Are ye alright, sir? Should I go fetch someone?" Peter said uneasily.

"No…no, I'm quite alright. Just was caught a bit off guard by something. It's nothing. I'm fine." He turned around and smiled reassuringly.

"In fact, I am better than fine...Peter... I think that you may be the solution to all of my problems!" His eyes seemed to brighten with every step that he took nearer to the fire. Throwing the log on the flames, he sat down in the armchair and pulled it closer to the couch.

"M- me, sir? Wha' can I help _you_ with?" Peter asked, his eyes wide and wondering.

"Do you remember that place I was telling you about? The one where you can dream anything and it will happen?"

"Yes sir." The boy said.

"What would you do if I said it was real? That you could see it right now if you wished?"

"Really?" he sat on the edge of his seat, bouncing with questions. "How do ye get there? Are we going t' take a boat? I've always wanted t' sail a boat…like a pirate!" Peter said excitedly.

The man laughed. "No, Peter. We don't have to take a boat. Just close your eyes."

Peter looked at him strangely and asked, "But…I thought ye said this was a real place?"

"It is, lad." The man reassured. "You'll understand in a minute. Just have some faith right now. Believing is half of the battle."

"No' a battle I've ever been in." Peter muttered.

"It's a figure of speech. Now close your eyes tight…tighter…soon you will start to see a pool of colors. Do you see them?" he asked intently.

"Yes, I think so. There are so many!" the boy exclaimed

"That's good; keep squeezing your eyes tighter and soon the colors will start to fade. And in that moment, just before they do, you should see…"


	4. Chapter 4

"I see it! It's an island!" Peter interrupted. "It's bright and green, with no' a building or dirty street in sight! There's a pirate ship there, and …smoke? Oh wait, I see it now. There's smoke from the Indians….Indians? They're dancing around a great big fire and beating on their drums."

"Are they, now?" The man said softly. His eyes had closed while listening to the boy's description and he wore a soft smile on his face, almost as if he was there with the lad, seeing the wonderful sights for the first time. "What else do you see?" he asked.

"I see lots of trees; I've ne'er seen so many in my life! So many different shapes and sizes, they are. And there are these, I donna' kno' how to describe them exactly. They're like little balls of light, with people inside them! And the people are wearing such funny clothes. Why, they almost seem t' be made of leaves!"

"That's because they are, lad. Those are the fairies. They take care of that world and keep it always looking beautiful." the man explained.

"It _is_ very beautiful… but something seems almost, missing." The boy said.

The man opened his eyes. "And what is that, boy?"

His eyes still shut, lost to that magical world, Peter said, "I donna' kno' sir. The land, it seems sad. Like someone has gone away from it for a verra' long time and they're waiting for him to come back. You know, sad and hopeful at the same time? It feels like that, sir."

"Does it now?" The man sighed heavily.

Peter opened his eyes and looked at him. The man was gazing longingly into the fire, his mind not really there, but lost into some world of his own imaginings.

"Sir?" he questioned.

"Hmm…? Yes boy, what is it?" the man asked softly.

"Why did you ever leave? It's so verra' beautiful. I don't see why anyone would want to leave."

The man sighed again.

"It wasn't that I wanted to leave, Peter. I truly did not wish to, but there is a certain part of growing up which forces us to make decisions sometimes that we do not want to do. In my case, I had two things that were very precious to me. Now, these things could not exist with each other. I was either to lose one and gain the other, or lose them both. I foolishly almost ended up doing the latter. One of them was irretrievable and, though I didn't know it at the time, once I lost it, it was gone forever. The other, I came close to losing while chasing after the first one. Eventually, I realized that, while I couldn't change what had happened in the past, I did have a say in what happened to my future. So I made my decision; the hard part of it being that I had to stay here forever."

"Are you sorry that you couldn't stay?" the boy asked

He thought for a moment. "No. I do miss my life there, but I like the one I have here as well." he chuckled, "And maybe that's the key to growing up after all."

"What's that, sir?"

"Growing up doesn't mean abandoning all your dreams in the past. It means finding newer, lovelier ones and working to accomplish them. There is so much more satisfaction in something that you have worked for than in just having fun."

Peter didn't quite understand that. The man would rather work than have fun? It sounded pretty backwards to him, but since he had been so nice as to feed him and show him that beautiful island, he didn't feel like he should say anything to hurt his feelings.

"If you say so."

The man looked at his face and laughed. "You don't believe me yet, but someday you will, lad. For now, just remember that it's up to you to choose when you want to grow up. It is inevitable that you will do so, but you have the power to choose when it will happen."

"How does that work, sir? Most days I feel like I'm grown up already. Is there a way that I can stay a boy forever? I don't want t' grow up yet. I want t' always be a boy, and t' have a lot of fun!"

Leaning forward in his chair, the man stared at him intently. He looked as if he was weighing something in his mind. "Peter, do you remember when I said that I thought you to be the answer to all of my problems?" he asked

"Yes sir." Peter replied.

"And you understand that the place I showed you is real, that you can go there right now?"

"Yes sir, but what does this have t' do with never growing up?" he questioned.

The man smiled, "Everything."

"I'm afraid I don't understand…" Peter said sadly

"Listen to me closely, boy. There is a land out there, beyond the stars, filled with wonderful things. Anything you can dream of is there. It was created when the mind of a boy met the magic of a fairy and was designed to forever be a place where children could come who didn't want to grow up just yet." the man explained

"But why would they go there if they didn't wish to grow up?"

"Because that's the best part, Peter. You can never grow older there."

"Never?"

"Not as long as your desires remain innocent and pure, free from all the emotions of an adult. If you truly always wish to be a little boy and have fun, you will do so." The man said.

"I do, sir! I do wish t' always have fun. Can I go there now? How do you get there? Ye said it wasn't by boat. Is it by train?" Peter asked eagerly.

"No, it's not by train, boy. Are you sure you want to go there? It's very far away and you won't be able to see your friends or family for a while." The man said solemnly.

Peter looked down at his shoes, his excitement dimmed for a second. Then, looking up with eyes far too old for his age, he said, "I don't really 'ave any friends that I would miss too much for a while. Friends are hard t' come by on these streets, and as for family, all I had was me mum and dad. Now that they're gone, I suppose I wouldn't mind trying a new place to live. And I couldn't think of a place as beautiful as that island if I tried."

This time when the man smiled, it seemed like his smile would fall off of his face, it was so big. "But you see, Peter, you did think it up. Neverland, for that is the islands' name, exists because children like you imagine it to. It's your dream world and anything that you want to happen, can and will. You can change a mountain, make a stream, and defeat a band of pirates by the sheer force of your imagination!"

"But sir, if it's all in my mind, how do I get there?"


	5. Chapter 5

The man looked around for the nearest window. Getting up, he went over and threw open the sash.

"Come here, lad." He gestured to Peter.

Peter crossed over the plush carpet and stood beside him.

"Do you see that star? The brightest one, second to the right of the moon? That… is Neverland." he pointed up to the sky.

"Yes, I do see it, sir. It's so much brighter than the others! Why is it so bright?" Peter asked

"Because children believe in it. As long as they believe in imagination, innocence, and trust that there is a place for their dreams, Neverland will always shine bright." The man said.

He looked down at Peter. "Do you remember that I told you I had a problem, Peter? One that I thought you could help me with?" he asked.

"Is it about Neverland?" Peter questioned.

The man bent down so that he was looking him in the eye. His face was solemn, as if he was sharing something that required all of Peter's attention. "Peter, right now, Neverland is dying. Since it was born out of the mind of an innocent boy and the magic of a fairy, it must have those 2 things.' He explained.

'The boy who created this land isn't a boy anymore, and so the people who live on it are getting older, and some of the worst of the adult emotions have crept in. Nasty things like greed, anger, jealousy, and malice. Things can only go back to the way that they were if another innocent boy goes back and lives there again."

"That's me, right? And you're the one who created it… I know this because you're all grown up now." Peter stated very matter-of-factly. "Did you really fight pirates?" he questioned.

"Yes, Peter. I was that boy." the man smiled. "I had many fun adventures there, most days it seemed like I just stepped from one to another. Fighting pirates and indians was only a very small part of all the things that I did there."

"So, you want me to go there now? To be that boy and watch over Neverland since ye cannot?"

"Yes, Peter. I want to give this gift to you, if you'll take it."

"Yes!" Peter jumped up and down excitedly. "I do take it. I'll do a good job, I promise! You won't have t' worry anymore!"

The man laughed at his excitement. "I know you will. You remind me of myself at your age, always ready for an adventure." He stood up and crossed over to a large lamp on one of the tables, reached inside and pulled out his hands with something inside them. "Now, to get you there, you are going to fly."

"TO FLY? You're kidding!"

"I am completely serious. That's the only way to get there is to fly. Now, this is very important." The man held up three fingers. "To fly, you only need three things."

"What are they?" Peter asked

"First of all, you need faith. You have to_ believe_ that you can do it, that flying is possible." he said.

"But is isn-"

"_Believe_ that that it is." The man interrupted. Peter nodded sulkily. The man continued. "Next, is trust. You have to trust that the last ingredient will work and that you can fly. The last step…" he paused for effect. "…is fairy dust."

"But, where am I to get fairy dust?" Peter asked.

The man smiled. "From a fairy" he said while opening up his hands so Peter could see what was inside them. There, sitting in the palm of his hands, was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. The fairy shimmered in the firelight, its' light making her glow several different colors all at once. Her wings, which seemed almost to be threaded through with gold, were the finest gossamer, thinner than paper and as clear as glass.

"Her name is Tinkerbell." The man said softly. "If you listen closely, you will hear her speak to you. It's not in words or sentences, so it may not make sense at first."

Peter listened intently. He even got very close to her, but still heard nothing. Then, all of a sudden, he started to hear a tinkling noise very much like a small bell being rung. The tinkling grew louder and louder until he could sense a pattern in the noises. It was almost like she was saying what she wanted to say through her music. Eventually, her message was clear.

"Hello little Peter, I am pleased to meet you." She said sweetly.

Peter stood speechless in astonishment.

"Do you want to go to Neverland and have adventures with me?" she asked, "It has been so lonely here, I would very much like to go back home."

"Well, Peter? Will you go with Tinkerbell to Neverland and take care of it for me? There's no one else I would rather do it than you." The man said.

Peter looked up at him, his eyes sparkling with glee, and said, "Oh, yes sir! I do want t' go to Neverland. I'll do my best and take care of it and have all sorts of adventures there!"

"That's a good lad, I know you will... Alright then, now for the flying practice." He gestured to a nearby oak table. "Hop up here, Peter, and let Tink put some fairy dust on you."

Peter climbed up onto the high table while Tinkerbell flew above him, sprinkling gold dust onto his head, shoulders and feet.

"Now, my boy, all that you need to do is to think of a happy thought." The man said, "It can be anything, anything at all as long as it consistently makes you happy."

Peter thought for a moment. "Alright, I think I have one." he said.

"I'm going to count to three, and when I do, I want you to jump off this table, alright?" the man asked. "When you jump, keep a tight hold on that thought. Don't let it go! Are you ready?"

"I'm ready!" he exclaimed.

"One – Two – – THREE ! JUMP, LAD!" the man yelled


	6. Chapter 6

Peter shut his eyes tightly, braced himself, and jumped off of the edge of the table, fully expecting to feel the hard wood of the floor at any second. He waited, and it didn't come. Slowly, he opened his eyes to find himself on the same level of the table, floating in midair!

"Wonderful! You're a natural, Peter. Now, hold onto that happy thought and whatever you do, don't let it go!" The man said excitedly. "Try moving about the room. Extend your arms out straight for balance and act like you are pushing air behind you to move forward."

It was a weird sensation, flying. Peter almost felt like he was swimming in a pool with no water. There was nothing touching him to get his balance from, so it was very easy to drift one direction without knowing trying. Also, it was hard to control how fast he went. One second, he was flying around the room at the speed of light, the next he was stuck in a snail-like crawl, desperately flinging his arms around while trying to get some momentum back. The man watched him amusedly for a while, and then went back to the fire, sat down and put his head in his hands. Tinkerbell landed on his shoulder and they talked until Peter finally landed.

The man looked up at him. "How do you like it then?"

"It's amazing! I've never felt anything like it in my life!" Peter exclaimed.

"No, I don't imagine you have." The man said amusedly. "Are you ready to go then? Anyone to say good-bye to before you head out?"

"No, sir." He said.

"Alright then, I suppose you are ready. We need to get someplace higher up for this to work better. Follow me, boy."

The man led the way out of the room, and into the hall. Peter looked at the great oak door. It seemed like such a long time ago that his future had looked so bleak instead of only a few hours. Up the steep staircase they went, climbing past rooms and offices until they reached the fourth floor.

The man strode to a door to the right of the staircase and into what must be his bedroom. Forest green walls were the principle things one saw upon entry with soft light greens and browns echoed amongst the furniture. What was most striking about the room was the ceiling. It looked like the sky on a slightly cloudy day. In fact, when one was lying down and looking up at it, they could almost swear it was like they were nestled in a tree, looking up into the sky.

Too great was his excitement, however, for Peter to notice these things. So intent was he upon his journey that he could barely refrain himself from running to the nearest window and jumping out of it. The man strode over to one of the larger windows in the room and threw it open. The night air was crisp and smelled damp from all of the snow. He pulled a table up to the window for Peter to stand on.

"Now then, Peter, just stand right here….That's it, right in front of the window. Okay then, Tink, you know what to do." He said.

Tinkerbell flew over Peter and sprinkled him with dust again; a little bit more this time, as they were making a longer journey.

"Should I jump now, sir?" he asked excitedly, looking down at the street below. You see, boys have very little fear in them when they set out on a new adventure and tend to rush into things without thinking.

"Not quite yet, Peter. Just in case anything should happen, I don't think you should be jumping out of buildings quite yet." The man said.

"But, how am I going t' fly then?" Peter asked

"Remember your happy thought?"

Peter nodded his head.

"Alright, now close your eyes and think of it. Think of it until that's all that's in your head anymore." The man whispered, "Now open your eyes."

Peter opened them and found he was, once again floating in midair, Tinkerbell hovering over his shoulder. The man was looking up at them, his eyes bright with unshed tears. "You're ready." He said.

Clearing his throat, the man grasped Peter by the shoulders.

"Now, when you get to Neverland, you'll be met by some people who will want to know who you are. Having Tink by your side will help things a bit, but I want you to tell them this. Tell them that you are the Pan now. Can you do that, Peter?"

"Tell them that 'I am the Pan now'." Peter parroted. "But what does that mean?" he asked.

"It means that you are taking my place; that they are to look up to you and treat you with just as much respect as they would me." He said. "Do you remember how to get there?"

"Um, the second one? The brightest of them all." Peter said, pointing at the stars.

"That's right, Peter. Never forget what I have told you about Neverland this night. Always have fun and keep dreaming. If you reach the point where you wish to grow older, remember what I have done and do the same for another wandering soul like us. Oh, and I almost forgot! Hold on one moment."

The man made a mad dash for the stairs. Peter heard some thumping and banging down the stairs and then he was back carrying in his arms what looked to be a small dagger. "Take this with you too. It will protect you from the villains that lurk amid the waters." He handed it to Peter. The dagger was the one he had seen earlier on the mantle. It was the perfect size for a young boy. Light and sturdy, it fit like it was made for Peter's hand.

"But I don't know how to use a dagger!" He exclaimed.

"You'll learn in time. Half of the fun comes in practice." he winked.

Patting Peter's head, his gaze swung over his shoulder. He looked up at his oldest and best friend. "Good-bye Tink. We've had some good times, you and me. You've always been the best friend a boy could ask for and I thank you for it. Watch over this one now, as he has no one else to teach him the ways of the wood. Can you do that for me?"

Tinkerbell sadly chimed out "Yes, Peter. I can do that."

"Your name is Peter too?" the boy said excitedly.

The man looked back at him. "Yes lad, it is. And I don't know of a better one."

"Me either." Peter grinned up at him.

"I think that's everything. Off you go then, lad. Don't forget what I told you! And, if it's not too much trouble, have an adventure for me? I do so miss them." The man gazed wistfully at the stars. "If only I could go back. Just one more time…" his thoughts trailed off.

"Sir?" the boy asked timidly after a long pause. "Are you alright?"

"It's nothing…. Just the forgotten dreams of yesterday that like to live in my head." He paused.

"Now, off to Neverland with you! I've held you here long enough. Follow Tinkerbell, she knows the way. And good luck!" he waved them off.

Peter started to glide out into the night. Higher and higher he climbed until, suddenly, a thought struck him. He turned around and saw the man still at his window, solemnly watching them fly away.

"Peter?" he called from high above the rooftops. "What about you? You will grow old now, never to have any more adventures. Is that alright with you?"

"Ah, my boy" the man called back, his red hair shifting in the breeze, his eyes gleaming with excitement, sadness and determination, "I think that living is going to be the greatest adventure of them all."

THE END


End file.
